The British are like patients with an incurable illness. Thinking and worrying can do no good, but those who understand Britain’s sickness can think of nothing else.
Rationally, we understand there is nothing we can do about Brexit until and unless the balance of forces shifts in Westminster. No one knows what will happen next. No one can say when the European question will be settled, and we will be free to to get on with our lives as best we can. All options have been discussed to the point of exhaustion and beyond. But like patients who cannot shut their illness from their minds, we can’t help ourselves. We talk in circles in arguments without end. Brexit was meant to bring back control, but has left us impotent and at the mercy of impostors promising miracle cures.
Just as the promoters of frankincense essential oil therapy, Vitamin-C chelation, Proteolytic enzyme therapy, the Ketogenic Diet and the Budwig Protocol (which sounds like a bad Robert Ludlum thriller) prey on the desperation of the terminally ill, so quack politicians prey on Brexit Britain.
The fit is close to perfect.
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